


The Three Times Arya Slept with Gendry, and the One Time She Didn't

by doctorwhowatchesthewatchmen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorwhowatchesthewatchmen/pseuds/doctorwhowatchesthewatchmen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Arya slept with Gendry, and one time she didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Daaah okay I don't own anything, this is just for fun.  
> It's kind of sucky because I haven't really written anything in a long time, and it's also my first post here, so, be gentle? Thank you.

She was nine. Gendry must have been about Robb’s age. He didn’t look like Robb, more like Jon. Dark hair, and strong, but his eyes were blue, not the stormy grey of the Starks. Gendry was a bastard, too, like Jon. In some ways she would pretend that Gendry was like Jon, like her brother. 

It wasn’t long before Arya found that Gendry was not one of her brothers. Not because he wasn’t nice to her, or because he didn’t tease her like Jon or Robb, but because he was Gendry. He was the stubborn, bull-headed bastard who followed her on faith, and kept her secret when they were traveling with Yoren and the others. There had been many nights when she would curl up into the curve of his back to keep warm. 

When they were taken to Harrenhall, Gendry was given quarters in the smithy, which was generally warmer due to the fires. On a particularly cold night, Arya crept from her bed in the night to find Gendry. She nudged the side of him gently with her hands, the way she would when she needed space on the Kings Road. He rolled slightly and groaned in his sleep. She crawled into the open bed space, and pulled the cover over her. She curled into the small of his back, her own back cracking as she stretched. 

He was as warm as she was hoping, his bare skin against her cheek. Arya pressed her cold fingers to his back, not trying to be mean, just seeking warmth. Gendry hissed and rolled over before she had time to think, and soon she was trapped under warm, solid muscle. Arya pushed at him until he rolled onto his side again, but now her back was to his chest, and he had an arm wrapped around her. It almost reminded her of the way she and Sansa would sleep when it was cold or when there were thunderstorms and she got scared. Almost. The major difference being that Gendry was not Sansa, and the fact that he slept naked. 

Arya pulled her knees as close to her chest as Gendry’s arm would allow and settled into the warmth, ignoring the not-brotherly-like-dress-situation Gendry was in. No doubt when he woke up he would push her out onto the floor and blush like a maiden. It made her wonder, but no, she wouldn’t think about that. Now she would try to sleep and let the warmth at her back soak through her clothes to warm her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation that is actually much worse than the first chapter. I apologize, I just have a lot of feelings. Book!Spoilers.
> 
> I put four years between the first chapter and this one, everything else in canon has happened except Gendry never became a knight, and he, Hot Pie, and Arya ran off, headed North together. Pre-Ramsay/Jeyne Poole!Arya wedding, but post-Red Wedding.

Gendry hadn’t forgotten the night she crawled into his bed behind the forge; he also hadn’t forgotten the feel of her body next to his. It was strange, but it wasn’t like he had feelings for a little girl. To look at her now, though, four years older, he could see himself liking this Arya. Her hips and chest were starting to fill out, while her face had lost some if it’s roundness. Arya would be a woman grown before he knew it, and all that that entailed frightened and intrigued him.

They were lost somewhere just south of the Trident. They were headed north to Winterfell, but they had run into complications. The sun was beginning to set and their small fire was almost embers. They set up a makeshift shelter against a few trees. Hot Pie was supposed to share one end of the shelter with Gendry, but he complained that there wasn’t enough room for the two of them.

Arya just rolled her eyes and she settled herself next to Gendry. She gave Hot Pie an exasperated look and said irritably, “Well? It’s my bed you wanted. Go!”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. Hot Pie plunked himself down onto the bed that Arya had made herself from leaves and high grasses. The bedding Gendry had scrounged up didn’t look half as comfortable, and he didn’t blame Hot Pie for wanting something soft to sleep on. Arya didn’t care though; she didn’t get up to find more bedding, she just laid down on the hard ground with her back to Gendry’s back. Not long after that though, she was tossing and turning until he felt her knuckles in his back, and her knees behind his.

There was the strangeness again; her body against his, huddling in against the cold of the North. Gendry tried not to focus too much on the fact that now she was curled into his back, like the way she used to when she was younger, except now she was bigger, and she didn’t exactly fit the way she used to. Now she fit more like the way a lover would fit against a lover in the night.

 _No, stop._ Gendry shut his eyes tighter, trying to force sleep to come, but it evaded him. Arya must have fallen asleep quickly, though, but then she’d started crying. It was the oddest thing to hear when after how many years of knowing this girl, how many times had he seen her cry?

Gendry wondered if it counted because she was asleep; if her tears were worthy or justified because she had been dreaming.

"Gendry?" Her voice sounded small, like she was nine years old again.

"What?" He didn't mean it to come out as gruff as it had, but it didn't deter her from continuing, "My family's dead. My father, my mother, Robb—the gods only know if Sansa's alive or not. And Jon--", her voice cracked, and her fingers clutched the back of his shirt, "Gendry, they're all gone. _All_ of them." 

Panic ran through Gendry. What was he supposed to do? Comforting people, comforting girls--little highborn  _ladies--_ was never something Tobho Mott taught him. He didn’t think she would want to hear any of the things he wanted to say; mostly he wanted to tell her that _he_ could be her family now. He wanted to tell her that they would find Sansa, find Jon, that they would avenge the deaths of her parents and Robb, and the little ones, Bran and Rickon. But even with all of this on the tip of his tongue, he knew better.

So, in place of words, Gendry rolled onto his other side so he could scoop her up into his arms. Arya buried her face into his chest, her arms wrapped around him, her strong fingers digging into his back; he wondered if she thought he would leave her, too. She cried harder, her whole body shaking. With one hand, Gendry stroked her head, and with the other he dug his fingers into her back. He wanted to communicate to her, _I’m here, I’m not going anywhere; I couldn’t leave you if I wanted to._

When Arya quieted he chanced a glance down at her; she had cried herself to sleep, but her fingers were still clutching him tightly. Gendry felt a wave of warmth mixed with sudden sadness. She needed him; she could turn to him—she trusted him, even. But she was so sad, and so inextricably angry.Not for the first time, Gendry felt his heart break for this girl.

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “It’ll be better in the morning.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, sorry this took so long. School's been taking priority, so. Um. I don't own anything, I'm just playing with GRRM's toys. As per usual, I believe this kind of sucks seeing as it's the first fanfiction I've written in a long, long time. Um. Warning: Next chapter will be explicit, so, um, yeah.
> 
> [EDIT: I'm a loser and you should all hate me. I'm gonna update this, even if it kills me, which it might since it's been almost 2 years since I posted this.]

It was some time later, a week or so maybe. Arya couldn’t tell. She just knew the snow wasn’t going to stop falling, it hadn’t stopped since it started. Hot Pie got separated from them one night when the snow was so thick you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face.  
They had found a small abandoned village and had been hunkering down in a hosue there. Arya couldn’t cry when Hot Pie didn’t come back from trying to find wood for the fire. She wanted to; she wanted to be sorry that she may never see him again. But all she could think about was keeping warm, keeping Gendry warm, keeping them both alive.

The nights were worse than the days; when the sun was shining you could see to try to hunt whatever was caught in the storm, but at night the fires dwindled faster than you could relight them. Gendry tried his best, but there was no use, it was just too cold. So Arya would lay next to him, on top of him, curled into his back, any way to possibly share whatever body heat they had between them.

“Gendry?” Arya was laying on top of Gendry, her head resting on his chest. The fire was still burning, so she watched as the flames dance. It was a dance she’d seen many times before, but she for some reason her eyes were stuck on the bright orange tongues as they licked at the cold air.  
“What?” He was half asleep, she could tell. They’d been hunting that day, and came back with nothing to eat safe a small rabbit. It wasn’t enough for the two of them, not when they had nothing else to eat. They did get plenty of fire wood, though. He was probably exhausted, she knew she was, and suddenly she felt very guilty.

“Never mind. Go to sleep.” Gendry sighed, she could hear his heart beating, hear as he took in a deep breath of air; she could feel every bit of muscle he had.

“No, I’m awake now, so spit it out.” He was annoyed with her. He was always annoyed with her now. Maybe it was because they’d spent so much time together. Arya hadn’t thought it was that bad, she liked spending time with Gendry. Probably more than she should, but when has what Arya should do been what Arya did?

“When the storm passes…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t actually ask him. She worried her lip between her teeth, and then decided on another question, “Have you been with any girls, Gendry?”

Gendry was silent for what felt like a long time, her face was hot but not from the fire, and Arya began to fear she had crossed some kind of invisible line in their friendship that she hadn’t known about. She liked Gendry, and she knew he liked her, maybe not in the way she wanted, but he still liked her. If only as a friend.

When he did speak it was so quiet that she might not have heard it were she not pressed right up against him. “Almost, but no.”  
Arya let out a breath she had realized she’d been holding. She snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his sides. She closed her eyes to the heat of his body and the fire, and the possessive wolf in her chest howled happily. “Good.”


End file.
